Well, There Goes My Gallbladder
by Muffin Is Injured
Summary: An episode filler on 2 03, Red Light on the Wedding Night. Luke and Lorelai don't always get what they want. Warning, Barry the fic went almost angsty on me. If I told you that you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me?


_Allo allo!_

_I've been feeling guilty that I left y'all hanging since July. So I pulled this rusty little guy out of my pocket, gave him a good dusting, and posted him. Halleluiah! _

_Here I am with another one-shot. This is an episode filler for **2-03, Red Light on the Wedding Night.** You know you were crying on the inside, or perhaps even on the outside if you're terrifically emotionally, at Luke's face while Lorelai asked him if he was coming to the wedding. And at the ignorant yet sad look on Lorelai's after he ignored her. And I loved the double meaning of the whole event- Taylor's line "You can't stop progress, Luke!" and Luke leaving to take care of the light before it's too late… as a replacement for it being too late for Lorelai? Now that scene was just ripe for some feeling spillage. And I am here to do the spilling. Like an oil spill, but much less hazardous to the environment. Well, not spilling, more like filling, as this is an **episode filler**. I'm here to do the filling. Put that dirty back in your mouth._

_I bet the name was hook enough to draw you in, huh? Most fics aren't graced with titles concerning bile-storing organs._

_I actually started this before I went to England back in July- it was going to be my one-shot but all of a sudden it took on this slight angsty tinge. All of its own accord. I was like, what the hell? Barry (I've named this fic Barry), why are you becoming angsty? This is not on. I don't even WRITE angst, why are you turning into it? I want an upbeat fic to tide them over while I'm gone, not this crap piece of angst you've turned yourself into. Angst is not my forte, buddy. So I put him on the back burner, and I just decided I'm going to finish it, simply because it's here, and I like writing Max so I can make him an obnoxious idiot. Ah, the powers one holds in the world of fiction…_

_As I have said, I am NOT an angst girl, so hopefully any amount of angst that finds its way in here without me knowing won't pain you too much. I tried to de-angst this as much as possible because I suck at angst, and I also don't like to write it. Reading it's fine, but it makes me cry and want to curl up in a ball and eat dark chocolate._

**Shout-outs (come on, this is me, were you REALLY expecting anything else?)**

**Beeba Baby**: My darling, my sweet cake muffin. I'm sorry you feel unlobed. Here, I'm mentioning you, top billing too, so feel very lobed. I wonder if people think we keep making the same spelling mistake over and over again. Wow, I just realized, you actually didn't mention my fic at all in that review. Not good enough. We might pull a Family Guy on you, seeing as you're named Meg anyway.

**Lorimar Jayne**: You're great. I so agree with your rant on brainstorms- I mean, it's not even a storm-like-thing! You know what, I've come up with such a better word. Brain-Chex-Mix. Yeah. There's so many different random kinds that just get thrown in there, but you get to choose the kinds you want and leave the kinds you don't! You don't end up eating half of them. As with thoughts! And now all the kids scared of storms won't be scared of thinking, because who's scared of Chex Mix? They'll be begging to think. Plus, they have 60 percent less fat than regular potato chips and there are ten varieties! Snack on!

**Baby Girl Gellar-Green:** Oops, sorry I didn't mention you. I accidentally deleted a couple of the smaller shout outs for that fic! Hey, it's all part of my charm. That is your longest review ever? Almost shameful. I will convert you yet. If ya wanna see rambles, look at the reviews **pOnDeReSqUe **and I write to each other. It's longer than the chapters of some people's fics, and that's not even exaggerating, which is almost sad, though in what respect I'm not sure.

**Labyrinth**: I don't know where I get those lines- they just come rolling in on waves of inspiration. I have this power that just makes people open up and start ranting. What can I say, it's a gift. I have not gotten pregnant at sixteen. But, when I actually become sixteen, I'll let you know.

**Totaltvjunkie**: I'm back! Happiness and all things fluffy! You're very emotional. A lot of your review consisted of you crying.

**lukelaiandroryndean**: Heh. You said 'oh my geez' again.

**Casper:** You amuse me, which I think makes me certifiably insane. Not that you'll be reading this, sicne you're out. Heh. I'm out. Heh.

**candlewick866**: I think it's amusing to refer to thoughts as trains. Whenever I say it, I am very amused. I am flattered by your high praise, hopefully I won't let you down. (salutes) And yeah, strawberry applesauce? So wrong.

**Chocolate on the Coffee God**: For a start, loving your name. In fact, I am Amy. I amuse myself by writing fanfictions under names including breakfast foods. Not that you can only eat muffins for breakfast- they're really a fantastic snack anytime of the day.

**orangesherbert7**: The Hanble contains my fics, my reviews, and the rules (which have yet to be written), and more! Plus an amazing plaid cover. Only 29.95, order it off eBay. (Um, kidding.)

**Krys33:** Smurf Vision! Ugh, that's so awesome. I wish everything was in Smurf Vison. Okay, I'll name my child Mister Driving This Sleigh Person. He won't get mocked mercilessly at school, no way.

**Anwa**: Marpessa, huh? Weird. She's been destined to be evil. It's all her parents' fault.

**LLFreak8285: **I'm so popular! (squeals) Thanks for the absurdly long review… I'll convert you yet.

**Alyx7: **Wipe your tears, dollface. Sorry to evoke such blubbering. Loved the review.

**oywidapoodles**: There actually is a reason I excluded you… some of my shout outs got deleted. Don't know how it happened, I'm very sorry. I appreciate the fact you thought of bowing, even though you were too lazy to actually do so. You need to think of that story at Christmas, that would make me so happy. I've never seen Bad Santa, and we were talking about Scott as in Cohen (Max), not Luke. Sorry to disappoint. You probably won't remember any of the questions you asked, so these answers will seem weird. Heh, oh well.

**pOnDeReSqUe**: That seriously is the longest review ever to grace this planet, ever. Ever. Seriously. You're crazy. I completely love your long rant on Free Willy and geese and your teddy bear's nose. Jombles is just a name. I decided to name her Jombles McFloobinheimin. I have the habit of naming things- even when they already have names. Luke with beard- very somber. Swish the limbs and AH! YAHTZEE! That sounds like lyrics to one of those weird dance songs, like the cha cha slide or something. Or the Urkel. Jello for breakfast… that's so fun. Your lamp now amuses me, simply because it has the ability to amuse you. Go wrap up a sandwich.

**Izzpuppy**: Long, long, long review. It is real! (gasps) It is! It is! (gets needle inserted in arm) IT IS! (sobs) I just had this feeling it needed to be named Jeremiah. I want Garfield boxers. I'm very schitzo. Thanks for the insanely long review… I can't talk about all of it or the shout out would be longer than the fic! But know I love you.

**Pink-x-Moonlight**: Ooh, Espresso Chip ice cream. Sounds good. There's this ice cream in my freezer that's caramel ice cream with a caramel swirl and cone pieces with a chocolatey covering. I haven't eaten it yet, but it sounds so good. Okay, I'm going to go eat it now, I'm such a good saleswoman.

**Alexiamanda**: Aw, you're so sweet, I just want to pinch your cheeks off. Love the review. You've only seen parts of season 5? Tsk, tsk. You should watch ABC Family, they have reruns for seasons 1-4. It's a fanatic's heaven. Glad to be of service.

_Plus, muchos love to all the people who said fishsticks. And you know what's great? There's too many to mention. I have started a new generation, people. Oh my God, some one on the TV just said, "I like fishsticks!" It's fate._

_Oh, and by the way, that recipe WAS real, and I really DID find it in a Boxcar Children's book. And it really DOES taste good._

_Wow. This was really relatively short! _

* * *

**Well, There Goes My Gallbladder**

One shot. So that means no chapters. Brilliantly deduced, ey?

* * *

_Lorelai turned from watching the workers install the controversial red light and looked at Luke. "Hey, did you get my invitation?"_

"_The what?" questioned Luke, looking away distantly._

_Lorelai coughed. "My _wedding_ invitation for my _wedding,_ 'cause I'm _wedding_ Max."_

_Luke's face contorted a little. Thank you for putting that _word_ in the sentence three times, Lorelai. He managed to reply with a relatively non-hostile, "Oh, yeah, yeah. It's in a pile upstairs somewhere."_

_Lorelai nodded. "Good, good." She stared at him, expecting him to go on. "So are you coming?" she pressed._

_Luke whirled around, his face still pinched. "You know, I gotta make some calls about this thing before it's too late. I'll see you later." He fled inside._

_Lorelai stared after him, shocked. "Okay," she replied faintly._

* * *

Lorelai stood there for a few seconds. What was that all about? All she did was ask Luke if he was coming to her wedding and he pulled a Houdini. Why wouldn't Luke come to her wedding? He was one of her best friends. Lorelai began to fume as she thought about this. What gave him the right to act like this?

Lorelai opened the door and stalked towards the counter, but Luke wasn't there.

"Hey, Mom. Where are you going?" questioned Rory as she saw her slightly flustered mother continue towards the stairs.

"Oh… I have a question for Luke." Rory's eyes stayed on her, expecting more. "I didn't like the consistency of those pancakes. Much too gritty. I need to have a word with him about it. It's completely unacceptable."

"Well, hurry back," said Max, leaning back in his chair and opening the second newspaper. He turned to Rory. "Look at this. The Hartford Courant says the opening of the new museum is at 10 AM, while the New York Times reports it as 10:10." He shook his head in disbelief. "Fascinating. Fascinating."

Rory turned around, ignoring Max. "We didn't even _get_ our pancakes yet," she called. But her mother was already up the stairs.

* * *

Luke closed the door behind him and heaved a sigh. Geez. Was this woman trying to torture him? Even bringing Max here in the first place. God, he hated that guy. He was like a knight in shining armor- a teacher, a poet, intelligent and sensitive and polite. He was a damn fairy tale, the guy all women wished for. Too good to be true, and Lorelai was crazy about him. And he hated it when she used the word 'love' when joking. No matter how much he distanced himself from her- especially lately, what with her being engaged to Mr. Wonderful- it always made his stomach go crazy, like a damn slinky falling down a waterfall or something. An interesting metaphor, yes, but he couldn't find something less eccentric to describe his stomach's amazing acrobatic feats.

No matter how much he told himself he didn't care about her, her smile turned him to jelly. And he hated it. He hated the power she had over him- how it seeped into every aspect of his life; how Rachel, the only woman he thought could make him forget Lorelai, left because of him. Yet Lorelai was still Lorelai, oblivious and stupid and ignorant and wonderful.

He walked over to his tiny, single bed and perched on the edge, grabbing the invitation from his side table. It wasn't buried under a pile of crap. It was sitting right there, alone, reminding him every time he went to sleep so he couldn't even escape from the reality in his dreams. He fingered the silver edges of the invitation and stared, **Lorelai Victoria Gilmore and Maxwell Thomas Medina** and **marriage** leaping out at him. The words were already burned into his brain from how often he looked at it. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see them, carved into his eyelids. In silence, he could hear them being read aloud in a voice that sounded suspiciously like _hers_.

He was lost in his own self-pity when the door banged open. He started and dropped the invitation on the floor. "Lorelai…"

"What is your problem?"

"Well, the bread shipment is late, we're out of strawberries, and I dropped my toothbrush down the toilet yesterday," replied Luke without missing a beat.

"Don't act cute. Tell me why you just left me back there without so much as answering me! I mean, it's a simple question- will you come to my wedding? I mean, hell, it's a yes or no question! Doesn't get easier than that. Just one frickin' syllable. Yes, no, yes, no. You probably learned those words at a very early age. Right after 'momma' and 'dadda.' I mean, you're the master of the monosyllable, you should be cheering to get such an easy question. It's not like I asked you 'What do you think of the way Bush is handling the 9/11 situation' or anything that required more than one word- God forbid, more than one word!"

"Lorelai…"

"And we have three syllables strung together! Boy, you're on fire! Don't speak any more, Luke, you might wear out your tongue due to its regular disuse."

"Why are you so mad?" he said, bewildered.

She sighed. "I'm not mad, I'm just… hurt, I guess."

"And I'm guessing this hurt is involving something with a yes and a no…" ventured Luke. "And I heard you mention something about Bush…"

Lorelai paced around a little and then sat next to him on the bed. "Are you coming to my wedding or not?" she said blatantly.

Luke was caught. "I-" he started, not sure how to respond. "I, uh…"

Lorelai cast her eyes down. "So you're not coming?"

"I mean- I didn't _say_…"

"You don't have to say." She stood up and resumed pacing. "Why? Why don't you want to come?"

"Why do you care?" asked Luke, stalling to avoid answering her question. "I'm just one person, no big deal. You probably wouldn't even notice if I wasn't there."

Lorelai shook her head. "C'mon, Luke, you know that's not true. You're one of my best friends and I'd want you there."

Luke did an astounding impressive of a goldfish, not knowing how to respond. What could he say, really? Her argument was perfect, no holes whatsoever. Besides the little fact that he was in love with her and would probably _stick his head in the wedding cak_e if he had to witness her union to Max. That was more like a gaping crater in the logic. Not a crater that she was aware of, though. And he wasn't planning to be the one to inform her.

He started when Lorelai's face swam in front of his. "Ground control to Major Tom."

"Sorry," he mumbled, turning away. She smelled like citrus toothpaste.

Lorelai straightened up, crossing her arms. "So am I."

Luke kept his gaze firmly locked on his toes. Was it unfair to be hurting her just so he wouldn't get hurt?

"I just don't understand," ventured Lorelai after a few moments, nibbling her lip anxiously. "Is it something I did? Are you-"

"No, I'm not mad at you," he quickly interrupted, shaking his head. "We're fine."

"Then…?" Lorelai paused.

Luke noticed that there was a little scuffmark on his left shoe. He toed the carpet nervously.

"Luke." Lorelai was beginning to get exasperated at his mime act. "At least pretend to be locked in a box or something. Here, try the tug of war thing. I'll be at the other end."

Luke ran a hand across his stubble and gave a deep sigh, ignoring Lorelai.

Lorelai rolled her eyes and sat down next to Luke once more. "Is there a reason you don't want to go?" she said bluntly.

Luke shoved the ground with his toes harder. His ankle cracked.

"Speak now or forever hold your peace." After a few more moments of Luke's ankles bones dueling, Lorelai stood. "Whatever, Luke. Do what you want."

Luke opened his mouth and made a sound, as if he wanted to speak but the words were lodged in his throat. He tried again. "Lorelai-" He stopped. It was stupid.

Lorelai turned back to Luke. "Ready to speak, Melissa?"

"I-" He stopped and started several times, sounded like a car left sitting for months. "It's- It's just- I-" It took a couple more unsuccessful tries to get a full sentence out. "There's a reason."

"Finally," sighed Lorelai. "What could it possibly be?"

Luke took a breath. Well, this was it. He was going to just say it. Not think about it, or stall, or stutter. He was just going to open his mouth and the words would come out and then- well, he didn't know what would happen next. Maybe she would laugh. Maybe she would cry. Maybe she would leave. But he would tell her. He needed to get it out of him, out of his system. It was eating his insides currently. He was pretty sure he already lacked a spleen, half a liver, and both the large and small intestines. And he wanted to keep his gallbladder. He opened his mouth.

Lorelai's eyes were wide open, her teeth frozen on her lips, waiting. Her left leg was drawn up onto the bed and her hand rested on her knee. His eyes swept over the soft skin and froze on the twinkling on her finger. It was a ring. Large diamond in the middle, diamond clusters on the side. A little deco.

Luke began to speak. "Ever since Rachel left, I haven't felt very sociable. Less so than usual, I mean," he said with a wry smile. "Being around someone getting married might just make it worse. I feel really bad, but it's just a cruel twist of fate that Rachel left right at this time. That's why I've been so grumpy lately. I'm sorry I was treating you like that, I just… well, you know." He chanced a quick glace up.

Lorelai looked down. "So that's the reason?"

Luke looked back at the ring on her finger, as if to shake any last doubts he had. "That's the reason."

Lorelai sighed. "Sorry you're feeling so crappy."

"Me too. But I am happy for you and Max." Boy, was he ever going to need to wash out his mouth after she left.

"Okay. Well." Lorelai was silent. "Are you sure you won't-"

"Your pancakes are probably getting cold downstairs," he cut in. His gaze locked onto hers, unwavering.

"Oh. Okay," she said. She stood up and gave him an awkward half smile. "I'll see you down there."

'Yes, you will," he said, forcing his mouth corners up.

She opened the door and paused, her hand on the doorknob. She turned back and opened her mouth. "So-"

"Pancakes. Cold."

"Right." She slipped through the door and closed it with a soft click.

Luke turned the invitation face down and lay back onto his bed. _Well, there goes my gallbladder._

* * *

Okay, so there you go. I'm not perfectly happy with it, but I thought posting something was better than posting nothing, right? I have school, so I'm not going to be writing a lot… I'll add little pieces to things over time, and when they're done, I'll post them. Sorry, but what can you do? My inner Rory strictly forbids anything else.

Oh, and also, some reviews say I should continue And What a Happy Holiday it is. Just a little short ending chapter. But I'm not sure, I sort of like its open-ended-ness. Then again, maybe it would be better to have a second chapter? I'm torn. Thoughts?

Give me a review and I'll give you a fishstick. Now who can turn away from a deal like that?


End file.
